Part II : Advances
Chapter One: Visions
Darkness surrounds. Penetrates.
A low fog eternally gripped the cold stones upon which the inquisitor treads. With each step, the Human disturbed yet another patch of dust that had laid undisturbed for so long on the tomb's floor. The deep architecture of stones planted and placed years and years ago at the whim of a Sith Lord basked in the azure glow of the lightsaber held loftily in the seeker's hand. Relative silence, only the soft hum of the weapon resonating throughout the enclosed space, accompanied by the soft steps of the intruding inquisitor. Then, a crash.
The once soft blue glow immediately turned red, flashing its angry crimson down each direction of the hall. The Human tensed, darting his gaze toward his goal and back toward whence he came. The two directions seemed indistinguishable, only a long corridor leading to utter uncertainty and blackness. No signs of the source of the audible instigation. As the inquisitor turned back toward his destination, the once calm darkness had been disrupted. For now, piercing the red glow offered by his saber, two red eyes awaited in the darkness beyond, aglow with intensity.
The Human froze. Unsure. Frightened. Then the owner of the vile eyes approached. Stepping from the darkness, a monstrous figure. A man. A beast. Towering over the inquisitor, the creature of darkness was sculpted with ability, fraught with power. The humanoid took one step after another, the sharp clatter of its talon toed feet resonating throughout the hall. It was a figure of bulk. Of spines. Of red. An image of blood and bone given form, the towering creature bore a hide of crimsons, from which a number of bony spurs sprouted from its appendages.
Raising his saber, the inquisitor thought to kill, but the beast's intent was greater. Taking hold of the Human's wrist, the beast was able to force the intruder to let loose his weapon with ease. Subdued, the inquisitor could do nothing as the creature took hold of his neck and raised him into the air. What followed was not mere pain, but a drainage of all things worth holding. Hope. Determination. Belief.
Then, a snap.
Lorrik stirred in his bed, raising himself from his tumultuous slumber. Sitting up, he immediately shook his head, body coated with sweat, mind reeling. Sweeping his legs out from the bed, the inquisitor walked amongst the darkness of his room, eventually settling upon his destination of the bathroom. He winced as he flicked on the lights, catching his reflection in the mirror only through a tempered squint. With a dip of his head, Lorrik began to run his hands under the sink, soaking his face and running his hands through his hair. Shutting off the faucet, he was greeted with silence, forcing him to acknowledged his heavy and rapid breaths. Rubbing his eyes, Lorrik let out one final sigh before resigning himself back to his bed.
Morning. Jresh and Lorrik sat at their respective tables, a plate bearing a hearty breakfast in front of them both. As Jresh contentedly partook in his meal, Lorrik sat stilled, offering his food only a cold stare instead of an intruding utensil.
"Hey, Jresh," Lorrik spoke, almost at a whisper.
"Yes, Lorrik?" Jresh replied, taking a brief pause in his eating.
"Do you think we're at the point in our training when we should be having visions?" Lorrik abashedly asked.
"Visions?"
"You know… premonitions, foresights, things of that nature," Lorrik explained.
"Well, warriors aren't known to be the most divining. Your connection to the Force on the other hand… why do you ask?" Jresh asked.
"I'm having trouble deciding if something was a vision or just a nightmare," Lorrik admitted.
"What exactly did you see?" Jresh asked, obviously invested in his partner's predicament.
"It wasn't exactly bustling with details. I was alone. In a tomb, probably here on Korriban. Walking down an endless hallway. When all of a sudden, a creature appears," Lorrik stated, deadpan in his explanation.
"A creature?"
"Well, it was humanoid. To be honest, it looked a cross between you and a tuk'ata," Lorrik explained. "Big. Red. Angry."
"Rather blunt of you," Jresh stated, showing a bit of surprise.
"I don't know how to describe it. Sith, but not Sith. Beastly… Corrupted…"
"And such a being concerns you?"
"When it's snapping my neck, yes," Lorrik muttered.
The Pureblood gently stroked the tendril hanging from his cheek. "I take it death does not play a usual part in your dreams?"
"Pretty much. With all the chaotic events that occur in the Academy, my dreams are a place of relative boredom. I mean, sometimes the Academy and other students play a part in there, but mostly it's just inanity."
"What makes you think this last one could be more than a nightmare?" Jresh asked.
"Well, I like to think I've trained my mind, attained relative control over it. Last night was concernedly out of the ordinary. Plus… I don't know. I just felt something about it. Like, actually FELT it. And I…" Lorrik began to trail off.
"Lorrik," Jresh spoke, trying to catch his companion's attention.
"Look. We've been together what? Six months or so? It's really hard for me admit that something, anything, frightened me. Which isn't to say I was frightened. Stirred would be a better word. Yes, stirred. You know me, always got food on the mind. Hah," Lorrik rambled, obviously in some sort of mental distress.
"I'm not one to needlessly give you orders, but you need to calm yourself," Jresh emphatically stated.
"You're right. Can't let things like this scare me if I want to be a proper Sith," Lorrik admitted.
"Absolutely not," Jresh replied.
Lorrik offered the soft arch of his brow. "Pardon?"
"While we are taught to shed our fears at first opportunity, far too many Sith are overzealous in this venture. Soon they find themselves not only casting away their fear, but their caution, their logic," Jresh explained. "We are not all-powerful. We are not immortal. We bleed. We tire. We inevitably recover, but only so long as we can keep a firm eye upon our limitations. With time, we may come to break past these limits, for that is the nature of a Sith, but we must always remember than until then, there are many forces in this galaxy that would work against us. That would see us dead. If it was simply a disturbing machination of your mind as you slept, then draw upon it. It obviously affected you. Brought emotions to the surface unfamiliar and frightening. Use them to your benefit rather than trying to sweep them under a metaphorical rug. And if it was indeed a vision… then prepare. Arm yourself with power and knowledge so that you not meet the same fate. Remember that you are never truly alone. Within your hands you are capable of wielding weapons both martial and arcane. And if they are not enough, I will gladly lend my own."
"Unless the vision was some manifestation of you," Lorrik muttered.
"Then prepare none the less," Jresh bluntly stated.
"I don't enjoy the thought of actively working against you," Lorrik admitted.
"And I don't enjoy the thought of you being powerless against any foe, even if it is myself," Jresh replied. "The Force is mysterious, the dark side even more so. If we are ever forced to meet in combat, I cannot guarantee that I'll be the person you expect. You know me, you know my methods, you know that as it stands I would never voluntarily end your life. But the Academy has ways of changing us. For better or worse. Always remember that."
"So you'd have no problem with me coming up with ways to strike you down?" Lorrik asked.
"I'd encourage you to do so," Jresh admitted. "We both deserve something greater than what this Academy has to offer. I'd rather not see either of our journeys cut short because of some manipulative force that might drive us against one another. It does not matter how well we fare against the other six students should our final test lie in besting one another. I'm no more worthy of apprenticeship than you until I am forced to prove it."
"So have you thought of how you might kill me if need be?"
"If need be," Jresh plainly answered.
"Enlightening."
"You can belief with confidence that I would still consider you a friend, even long after your death," Jresh stated. "And remember, only if need be. I would never needless end the life of a rival, let alone an ally. Precautions do need to be taken in the event of some sort of Force-induced madness or betrayal."
"So… how would you do it?" Lorrik curiously asked, unfazed by the warrior's declaration in any negative fashion.
"It certainly wouldn't involve snapping your neck," Jresh confessed as he took a hefty bite of the eggs on his plate.
"Good to know. I suppose I'd have to try and tire you out. To be honest, I'd feel bad manipulating you before a fight. Like, telling you I'm healing a wound when instead I'm implanting corrupting energies into your body. I suppose in the heat of battle however, I'd have no qualms altering your perceptions to my advantage though," Lorrik cheerfully explained.
"Good to know," Jresh said, stoically tending to his meal. Letting out a muffled chuckle, Lorrik took a bite of his own food, bobbing his head as he simultaneous chewed and stirred the thoughts within his head.
"What do you think Jedi do when they wake up each morning?" Lorrik asked.
"Can't say that I know," Jresh admitted.
"They certainly don't talk about how they might end up killing each other. And if they did, they certainly don't do it with the same pleasant disclosure we do. Then again, I don't even think the other Sith converse as we do."
"A Sith does not usually part so readily with their secrets," Jresh stated.
"What's different for us?" Lorrik asked.
"Well, I assume others believe that so long as something remains a secret, it cannot affect them. Something I disagree with. With secrets, yes, others are restricted from acting upon them, but then you giving control over to a piece of information. You no longer control the information, the information controls you."
"Everything gets out eventually. Might as well prepare for it instead of hoping it remains a secret."
"Exactly."
Darkness surrounds. Penetrates.
From within his chambers, Lord Syrosk knelt in the center of an encircling room. His senses deprived, the Sith Lord was left only with his thoughts, his meditations. Eyes closed, Syrosk sat out of his usual garb of battle-worn armor, in its place a set a black robes. Around his neck dangled a jeweled amulet, a dark yellow stone enwrapped with silver. The Sith Lord held it softly within the grasp of his leathery hands. Lost within his own thoughts, Syrosk sat, eternally still, unburdened by any internal or external force. Then, with realization, he opened his eyes.
"It is time."